


It is What It Is

by Fandom_Stuff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 02:46:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18327107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Stuff/pseuds/Fandom_Stuff
Summary: Sherlock and John are the co-parents of Rosie and when she brings home her first boyfriend, her parents are very protective, especially Sherlock. Sherlock and John take a trip to Paris to vacation, but when Sherlock finds a case things begin to escalate and Sherlock finds himself in a little too deep.





	1. Unrequited?

The soft melody of Sherlock’s latest tune floated around the room, John sipped his tea and let out a content sigh. It was almost Christmas and the ground was covered in a dust of snow, more fell from the sky. The small white flakes danced outside the window and John found himself watching them, carried by the wind, changing course to be whisked away, landing on roofs and cars, the now white landscape peacefully sitting outside 221B Baker Street. Sherlock kept playing and John shut his eyes to listen to the tune. Then Sherlock stopped and spun around.

“I need a case,” he said with frustration.

“You can check out the website, see if there’s anything interesting.”

“I already did. Dull,” Sherlock replied with a sigh as he sat down in his chair and placed his hands underneath his chin.

“Well then check again,” John suggested.Sherlock sighed but opened the laptop. John moved over to stand next to him, “There’s been a murder.” John said hopefully.

“It was the sister.” Sherlock replied without blinking.

“Oh.” John said with a frown.

“You want to know how.” It wasn’t a question it was a statement.

“You don’t have to tell me.” John replied smoothly, and a little too quickly.

“Really it’s quite obvious. She was murdered by an instrument that struck her on the left side of her head, which means, most likely, that the attacker was left handed. Now the only suspects are the girl’s family and the only person in the family that is left handed is the sister.” Sherlock stated, ignoring that John had insisted that he didn’t need to know how it was done.

John blinked anyway, feeling warm at Sherlock’s deduction, or was it just the fire burning in the hearth, maybe it was both. “Extraordinary.”

Sherlock’s mouth twitched at the corner, “I didn’t even need to leave the flat. Now find me a case John.” Sherlock said, shoving the computer at him, “I’m bored.”

John sighed but took the laptop, “Well there’s been a robbery.”

“Boring. Mundane.”

“Someone thinks their sibling is a ghost.” John offered.

“Drug addict, hallucinations.” Sherlock stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

John sighed again and continued, “Missing Jewels.”

“Boring.” Sherlock said distastefully.

“Runaway pet, the child thinks it was kidnapped.” John was pulling at straws now, there was nothing good on the website, well nothing that suited Sherlock’s fancy.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Is that really the best you’ve got?”

“The world’s quiet today Sherlock, what can I do about it?”

Sherlock stood so suddenly that John barely had time to get out of the way of his flailing limbs before Sherlock turned on him. John met his eyes, surprised to find fear there. “John.” Sherlock began then he shut his eyes and sighed, “Never mind.” He said, John noticed him visibly twitch uncomfortably.

John was curious now, “No, what were you going to say?”

Sherlock opened his eyes and John thought he saw slight panic flicker in his blue gaze, “Just um.. shouldn’t you check on Rosie? She might need something.”

“She’s asleep upstairs Sherlock, and she’s four years old, if she needed anything we’d hear about it.” John replied, he sighed and set the open laptop on his chair, “Come on Sherlock, that wasn’t what you were going to say,”

“You don’t know that.” Sherlock replied, cunning as usual.

“No, no I do.” John said with a smile, “Sherlock I can read you better than anyone in the world, I know when you’re lying. What were you going to say?”

Sherlock shut his eyes again, “I said never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

John crossed the space between them and put his hand on Sherlock’s arm, Sherlock flinched at John’s touch but he didn’t shy away, “No, it does matter, you were going to tell me something.”

Sherlock shuddered as he took in a breath, “John really, I can’t tell you, I thought I could but I can’t.”

John felt his heart skip in his chest. His hand was still resting on Sherlock’s arm, he liked it, he liked the warmth under his fingers and the soft silk of Sherlock’s shirt. “You can tell me anything.” He said softly, it was almost a whisper.

“John I..” Sherlock faltered and John spotted a tear slip out of his eye.

“Hey, it’s okay.” John instinctively moved to wrap his arms around Sherlock.

“It’s not okay.” Sherlock replied. They were hugging now. “John I have to tell you something, but I don’t really know how.”

John pulled away slightly to look at Sherlock, he felt fear clench his stomach, “Just say it straight up.”

“John I…” Sherlock stopped again, “I can’t do this. I’m not good with the whole emotion thing.”

“What’s wrong?” John asked, “Just tell me Sherlock, I can’t help you unless you tell me.”

“I love you.” Sherlock burst out, it was ragged and almost forced, it also held fear.

John stared at Sherlock in shock, “You…” Sherlock’s face was completely screwed up in fear, John had never seen him so afraid. Then it all hit John. He hadn’t really truly thought about it, too much, that is, but he hadn’t dated anyone since Mary died, he hadn’t even so much as looked at a girl, he had just moved back in with Sherlock and brought Rosie with him. Now it was clear, something clicked in John and he looked up and Sherlock the twinge of a smile touching his eyes, “I love you too.” Sherlock nearly collapsed with relief and he swayed where he stood. John reached out and steadied him, Sherlock leaned gratefully into his touch. “Sherlock, sit down, you’re as white as a sheet.”

“No.” Sherlock waved him off, “I’m fine.”

“You were scared I didn’t feel the same way.” John said.

“You could say that I guess.” Sherlock said as he swallowed his fear. “But that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Sherlock,” John took his hands, “Why didn’t you tell me before? And why did you hesitate tonight?”

Sherlock barely met his eyes, “You always insist you’re straight.”

John sighed, “Well I am.” The fear returned to Sherlock’s eyes.

“So you mean you love me…platonically?” Sherlock’s brain worked to piece it together.

John squeezed Sherlock’s hand, “No, you idiot.”

“But you said-

“I make exceptions.” John smiled. “Well, one exception.” Sherlock was staring at John blankly, John rolled his eyes, “Sherlock, it’s you.”

Sherlock stared and blinked, “You mean you’re straight but you’ll be gay for me?”

John snorted, “I love you Sherlock. I always have.”

Sherlock was beaming at him and then suddenly John felt something touch his lips and it took him a moment to realize it was Sherlock. John hadn’t kissed anyone but Rosie since Mary had died, but kissing Sherlock felt good and John fell into the kiss, meeting Sherlock hungrily, it wasn’t until then that he realized he had wanted this, he had wanted this for so long. Sherlock stopped kissing John and pulled away, John tried to follow him, wanting more.

“John.” Sherlock gave him a little shake. John opened his eyes.

“What?”

“We have a visitor.” Sherlock said, nodding towards Rosie who was standing in the doorway, her empty sippy cup in her hand.

John brushed past Sherlock, slightly embarrassed that his daughter had just witnessed their first kiss, “What is it sweetie? Are you thirsty?”

“What were you and Sherlock doing?” Rosie asked innocently, her thirst forgotten.

John blushed, “Oh um…nothing sweetheart.”

Sherlock came to stand beside John and then bent down to be on Rosie’s level, “Don’t listen to him Rosie.” John’s eyes widened in dismay, Sherlock was not about to.. “That’s what people do when they love each other. It’s called kissing.”

“It’s gross.” Rosie wrinkled her nose.

John chuckled but Sherlock replied smoothly, “You say that now, just wait fifteen years.” Sherlock said with a smile, John fought back a laugh. “Now are you out of bed for a reason little lady?”

Rosie blinked and rubbed her eyes, “I was thirsty.”

John took the cup from her, “Let me get you some water honey.”

Sherlock picked up Rosie and followed John to the kitchen where he stood at the sink, holding Rosie’s lime green cup under the water. Sherlock rocked Rosie slightly on his hip and John screwed the cap on the cup, Sherlock took it from John and held it out for Rosie, “There you go.” Rosie took it and gulped at it eagerly. “Ah, ah, ah, what do we say when people generously give us things.” Sherlock said.  
Rosie took her mouth off the cup, “Thank you daddy.”

John smiled, “You’re welcome love bug.”

Sherlock took Rosie back upstairs and tucked her in then came back down to John, his eyes burning so brightly John thought he might light everything his eyes touched on fire, “I love that little girl.” Sherlock said.

“I’m glad.” John replied.

Sherlock crossed the room and took John’s hand in his own, “Now, where were we before we were interrupted?” Sherlock’s deep voice was like a growl and John’s stomach lurched.

He grabbed Sherlock’s collar and pulled him close, “I believe somewhere around here.” He grinned into the kiss. Suddenly John was being lifted off the ground by surprisingly strong arms, he found himself on the couch with Sherlock crawling on top of him.

“No, I think we were about here.”

John giggled, “Down boy.” Sherlock’s lips found John’s again and they kissed until John found himself barely able to keep his eyes open. “I need to go to sleep Sherlock.”

“Come to my room.” Sherlock slurred quietly, his voice drowned in the need for sleep as well.

“You know I would love to Sherlock, but I appear to be unable to move, there’s this great lump of an attractive man on top of me.” John grinned mischievously.

Sherlock kissed John again then moved off him, “Come on Doctor Watson.”

John sat up and took Sherlock’s hand, “You know I’m glad we sorted this out, now Rosie can have her own room.”

Sherlock mumbled in agreement. They entered the room but neither of them managed to change into their pajamas before they passed out on Sherlock’s bed, carefully wrapped around each other, Sherlock’s scent and warmth lulling John to sleep.


	2. Wounded

**10 Years Later**

“Detention, are you joking!?” John gasped into the phone.

“Yes Mr. Watson I said detention.” The principal on the other end replied.

“But Rosie is such a good kid, what happened?” John asked, he couldn’t believe his ears.

“She attacked another student.” The principal replied, her voice taught.

“Attacked?” John asked, confused.

“Threatened, whatever you want to call it. But, it, will not be tolerated at my school, you can come and collect Rosamund whenever you wish.”

“Of course.” John replied and hung up. He stared at Sherlock’s empty chair for a moment. Sherlock was on a case and had insisted that John wait for Rosie to come home from school instead of coming with him, John had objected at first, telling Sherlock that Rosie was fourteen and could be home alone by now, but Sherlock wouldn’t have it, so John was waiting. Only to be called by the Principle to be told his child had detention. John exited the flat and hailed a cab to Rosie’s school. When he arrived the Principal was waiting for him outside with Rosie beside her.

“Mr. Watson.” Principal Sampson said, holding out her hand. John shook it uncertainly and glanced at Rosie, she was staring at John indignantly, her eyes revealing nothing. “The behavior of your daughter today was frankly appalling, I expect better from her in the future.”

“What happened may I ask?”

Principle Sampson opened her mouth to reply but Rosie beat her to it, “I’ll tell you on the way home.”

“Very well.” John replied, “Good-day Mrs. Sampson.” With that he led Rosie back to the street, hailed another cab and turned to her, “Well, spill it.”

Rosie smirked at John, “Papa should hear it too.”

“Papa is on a case and could quite possibly be home very late, I’m not waiting for him to get home. Tell me what happened young lady.” John said with his old military sternness.

Rosie crossed her arms, “No. Papa will hear it too or I’m not saying anything.”

“Then I’m going to have to get the details from Mrs. Sampson and I may have to ground you.” John retorted.

Rosie shrugged, completely unfazed, “Do what you must father.”

“Rosamund Mary Watson—

“John Hamish Watson!” Rosie replied, indignation cutting across her eyes.

John felt anger harden him, “You’re grounded young lady. No friends over for a week, and Sherlock will not be telling you any details of cases, or taking you with him on cases either. You will spend the rest of today helping Mrs. Hudson downstairs and you will tell me what happened today.”

Rosie still didn’t seem fazed by her father’s words, “I’ll tell you when Papa gets home.” The cab came to a stop and John payed the man.

“Upstairs, go to your room right now and get changed, then come back down and see what Mrs. Hudson needs help with.” John ushered his daughter into the flat and shut the door with a loud bang.

Mrs. Hudson popped her head out of her flat, “John? Rosie?” She asked.

“Rosie is grounded Mrs. Hudson, and will be down to help you with anything you need in a few minutes.” John replied, he was fuming.

“Oo oh, what happened?” Mrs. Hudson asked, medaling as usual.

“I’m sure she’ll tell you.” John replied.

“Well John, Sherlock came home a few minutes ago, apparently he solved the case, I’m sure he’ll help you calm down.” Mrs. Hudson said.

Sherlock was home, that was good, “Calm down!? I am calm! I’m perfectly calm!” John shouted.

“Live and let live,” Mrs. Hudson smirked.

John rolled his eyes but practically bounded up the stairs to see Sherlock sitting in his chair and Rosie standing at his shoulder. “Ah John. Our daughter has something to tell us.”

John crossed his arms, “Yes, spill it.”

Rosie’s confidence seemed to shatter and her tough act was gone in an instant, “They made fun of me, for having you as parents.” She choked out. “They said it wasn’t right for me to have two Dads, that it was wrong and shouldn’t exist. So I punched the boy who said it. Well I tackled him really, and I told him if he ever made fun of you again that I would make him wish he was never born, I would k…” Rosie trailed off, tears streaming down her face. Sherlock was up in an instant, cradling her in his arms.

“It’s okay.” He held her and rocked back and forth slightly.

“It’s not okay.” Rosie cried.

Sherlock kissed her head, “no, but it is what it is.”

John jolted at the words and the scene, this happened to him practically fourteen years ago, Sherlock holding him… “I’m sorry Rosie.” John said.

“It’s fine.” Rosie sniffed.

“It’s not fine.” John replied, “I never wanted you to get bullied because of us, maybe we should pull her out of school Sherlock-

“Stop.” Sherlock let go of Rosie, just keeping one hand around her shoulder, “Rosie is a big girl, she can take care of herself. I think you were a bit harsh today John, I don’t think she should be grounded.”

“And people think I’m the soft parent.” John muttered, “She still called me by my full name and refused to tell me what was going on.”

“She’s in a state of anger John.” Sherlock reasoned, “Clearly this whole matter has shaken her up quite a bit. Not to mention the fact that you have failed to notice the blood on her knuckles which should be cleaned off and bandaged.”

John noticed that Sherlock was right, as always and he just sighed, “Alright fine, come on Rosie I’ll clean you up.”

Rosie shook her head, “I want Papa to do it.”

John narrowed his eyes, “Fine, I’m only a bloody doctor.”

“John!” Sherlock snapped, “Don’t swear.”

John snorted, “Just go clean her up.”

Sherlock led Rosie to the bathroom and John sat in his chair with a huff. When they were done Sherlock sent Rosie to her room to go relax then sat opposite John in his chair, “What’s your problem?” He asked.

“Deduce me.” John replied hotly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Sherlock replied smoothly.

John looked up at Sherlock, tears in his eyes, “I said it didn’t I? I never thought she’d get bullied because she had two Dad’s, I didn’t think about it, but now she’s in trouble at school, people think she’s some sort of freak.” Sherlock flinched at the word and John instantly recoiled, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine John.” Sherlock replied. “But I told you Rosie can take care of herself, we have raised her well. She stood up for what she believed in and didn’t back down when people pushed her around. Isn’t that what we taught her?”

John nodded, “Yes,”

Sherlock smiled, “Well now that that’s settled I think I need to pay this Principle a visit because I will not tolerate my daughter being made fun of for something that is beyond her control.” Sherlock stood up.

John looked at him in surprise, “What, you’re going now?”

“No time like the present.” Sherlock replied as he whipped his coat on.

“Then I’m coming with you.” John replied.

“No, no, John, Rosie needs you, you should go talk to her, I’ll be fine.” Sherlock said.

“You just don’t want me to go because you think I’d stop you from insulting the Principal.” John replied with a smirk. Sherlock returned the smile.

“Well, yes.” Sherlock said as he shifted his scarf around his neck.

“Then you have nothing to worry about because I am counting on you insulting her.” John stated firmly.

Sherlock’s grin deepened, “Just the same, you should stay here.”

“Dad!?” Rosie called with a sniff from her room.

“See, Rosie wants you.” Sherlock gave John a quick kiss and turned to leave, “I won’t be long.”

John sighed and made his way upstairs to Rosie’s room, “Rosie?” He knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Rosie sniffed.

John entered the room to find Rosie curled up on her bed, her pillowcase damp from tears and her eyes red. John sat on her bed and patted her leg, “Aw, honey I’m sorry about losing my temper. I didn’t know what it was about, I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

“It’s not your fault Dad.” Rosie replied.

“I feel like it is.” John said, “I’m sorry.”

“Well Papa will give that horrible principal a nice thorough deduction and she’ll feel sorry she ever crossed me and my Fathers.”

John grinned, “Yes, he will won’t he? But don’t call your principal horrible Rosie.”

“You taught me to tell the truth,” Rosie said as she wiped her eyes.

John laughed, “Yes, but.. oh never mind, she is pretty horrible isn’t she?”

Rosie laughed with John, “I can’t wait to hear all the secrets Papa uncovers about her.”

John found himself agreeing with his daughter, “Me too.”

Sherlock returned thirty minutes later a smug smile on his perfect lips, “John, Rosie!” He called. 

John and Rosie thundered down the stairs, “What did she say!?” Rosie demanded.

Sherlock’s smile deepened, “She apologized very nicely and said you don’t have detention anymore.”

Rosie playfully hit Sherlock on the arm, “Tell me what you found out about her, please!” Rosie begged.

Sherlock glanced at John and raised his eyebrows in a question, “Oh tell her!” John shouted, “I’m dying to know too!”

Sherlock grinned and led them to the couch, “Well she wasn’t too happy to find out that her boyfriend was having an affair with none other than her secretary, she also wasn’t pleased to know that her brother was gay. Once I explained to her the happiness of gay marriage and the life that John and I lead, she seemed to warm to the idea-

“Sherlock.” John broke in, “Mrs. Sampson does not warm to anything. What did you do?”

Sherlock smiled again, “Well I did tell her that her brother was gay and then stated bluntly that Rosie was very happy living with us and that anyone who teased my daughter about her parents sexuality might find themselves dead.”

John bit back a laugh of horror, “Sherlock-

“She called me a psychopath.” Sherlock said with a malicious grin. “I told her I was a sociopath, but I warned her not to make me bend over the border.”

Rosie was fighting giggles, “She should have done her research.”

“Indeed she should have Rosie.” Sherlock agreed.

“But what else happened Sherlock?” John pressed.

“Well she told me she saw where Rosie got her ideas from and I specified that my warning was made towards her. She wasn’t too scared until I pulled the gun on her-

“You pulled a gun on her!” John gasped horrified, “Sherlock you can’t do that in a school, I should have gone with you!”

“Relax John, no one saw, and it really helped persuade her to let Rosie off of detention, I did even coax and apology out of her. I also believe she will be resigning from her job tonight and flying to   
America to start a new life.” Sherlock ended with a smile.

“You absolute…You.. Oh my God Sherlock.” John found himself laughing despite himself.

“No one makes fun of my daughter.” Sherlock replied and he gave Rosie a hug and kissed her head.

John cleared his throat, “Don’t you mean our daughter?”

Sherlock nodded, “Yes.”

Rosie looked up at Sherlock, “Can we practice that violin duet we were working on?”

“Is your hand okay for that?” Sherlock asked.

“It’s fine, it’s my bow hand so I don’t have to do much.” Rosie replied.

“You’ve been practicing a duet?” John asked, confused.

“Yes.” Sherlock replied. “Come on Rosie, let’s play it for Dad.” Rosie joined Sherlock and they picked up their violins and started to play. The music was beautiful and John melted into it, a smile warming   
his lips, and his heart filling with happiness at the sight of his husband and daughter playing together, for him. This was what being a parent was about, these little moments, and John wouldn’t trade it for the world.


	3. Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John being overprotective parents :)

**3 Years Later**

“John,” Sherlock rolled over in bed and John groaned, he had been about to fall asleep.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Rosie has a boyfriend.” Sherlock replied without delay.

John choked on the air he was breathing in, “What!?”

“She meant to tell us today but then thought better of it.” Sherlock said.

“But how-

“I deduced it.” Sherlock replied, “You should have known that John.”

“Should we confront her about it tomorrow at breakfast?” John asked.

“She will tell us in her own time.” Sherlock said with a yawn.

John was wide awake now, “No, I want to know who it is, I’m asking her tomorrow.”

“I want to know too John.” Sherlock replied, “However shouldn’t we wait for her to tell us?”

“She has us as fathers, she’s not going to tell us if she can help it! She’s worried I’ll kill him and worried you’ll deduce him out of the flat.”

Sherlock chuckled, “Yes, that’s exactly what she’s worried about, she has every reason to be, because honestly John, you will threaten him with a gun and I will deduce every inch of him, it’s who we are, Rosie knows that.”

John laughed with Sherlock, “That’s true. Goodnight Sherlock.” He leaned over and kissed him before shutting his eyes with a content sigh.

Morning brought an awkward breakfast, Rosie ate her eggs in silence, ever so often glancing up at her father's. “Something to say Rosie?” John asked as he shoveled eggs onto his own plate.

Rosie blushed, “Um, well.”

Sherlock heaved a sigh, “Rosie do you think we don’t know about your boyfriend.”

Rosie let out a gasp and John’s lips threatened a smile. “What happened to, she will tell us in her own time?”

“I got impatient.” Sherlock replied. Rosie was still staring at them, “I’m the world’s only consulting detective, it took me two minutes to figure it out.”

Rosie laughed nervously, “I should have known I couldn’t hide it from you.”

“So what’s his name?” Sherlock asked, “And when can we meet him?”

Rosie put her fork down, “His name is Jack but as for meeting him, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

John grinned at Sherlock, wanting to see how the detective would get out of this predicament. Sherlock hardly blinked, “Just because I will deduce him within an inch of his life does not mean that we should be denied the right to meet this boy.”

Rosie sighed, John hadn’t said anything, “There’s no getting out of this is there?”

“Nope.” Sherlock replied.

“Fine, I’ll bring him ‘round after school.”

John grinned and stood up, planting a kiss on the top of her head, “Good. Now that that’s settled have a wonderful day, we’ll see you later.” Rosie stood up and gave both her father’s a hug before picking up her school bag and leaving the flat.

Sherlock waited around all day, refusing to take cases and John kept reading the same paragraph in his book over and over again. “This is useless.” Sherlock said angrily as he stood up.

“Be patient.” John said.

“Patience is boring.” Sherlock replied, irritated.

“She’ll be home in five minutes, relax.” John put his book aside and stood up to take Sherlock’s hands in his own.

“What if he doesn’t like us?” Sherlock asked.

John faltered, shocked, “He’ll love you Sherlock, just don’t do anything over the top.”

Sherlock gave John a kiss, “He’ll love you too.”

They gave each other another kiss but they broke apart as soon as they heard the door open, Rosie was home. Sherlock suddenly started to panic, “Calm down.” John gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.   
Rosie and Jack came into the flat. Jack was a few inches taller than Rosie, with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a pretty perfect smile.

“Dad, Papa, this is Jack.” Rosie introduced them.

Sherlock crossed the room and stood in front of Jack who swallowed slightly in fear, Sherlock held out his hand, “Sherlock Holmes.”

Jack took it, “Jack Winthrop.”

“Hm.” Sherlock scanned him and stepped back, John knew in the few seconds he had to look over Jack that he already knew things about him that even Rosie didn’t know.

“Papa don’t.” Rosie said uneasily, “Please don’t do it.”

“Surely you warned him.” Sherlock replied with a smile.

“Well yes but-

It was John’s turn. He strode over to Jack, interrupting his daughter, “John Watson, nice to meet you.”

Jack took John’s hand and smiled tersely, “Nice to meet you too.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, “Jack Winthrop.” Sherlock muttered.

Rosie groaned, “Here it goes.”

Jack shifted uncomfortably as Sherlock began, much to John’s own chagrin. “Well Jack I think you should sit down and we can have a little talk.” John glanced at Sherlock slightly shocked, no deductions? 

Jack swallowed in visible relief and let Sherlock lead him to the couch with Rosie holding his hand. “Don’t do that.” Sherlock flicked a finger at their hands, they immediately let go of each other, “I have yet to determine if you are suitable for dating my daughter. You see Jack for most people they only have to deal with one overprotective father, but unfortunately for you, you have to deal with two.” Jack scooted a little ways away from Rosie.

“Well, I hope I can convince you to let me date your daughter.” Jack replied, trying to be calm.

“You’re certainly welcome to try.” Sherlock replied.

John stepped in, “Sherlock stop scaring him, that’s my job, you’re only supposed to reveal his darkest secrets.” He said with a smile, trying to show Jack he was joking.

Jack didn’t take it that way, he gulped and Rosie buried her head in her hands, “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“We’re kidding Rosie.” John said, “Aren’t we Sherlock?”

Sherlock didn’t reply until John elbowed him, “Yes.” He said through gritted teeth, barely managing not to deduce everything about Jack on the spot. “What are your plans with our daughter?” Sherlock asked.

“I just want to date her sir.” Jack replied.

“Anything else?” Sherlock asked, edging near the end of his seat.

“Sherlock he’s not a suspect in a murder.” John said with another elbow to Sherlock’s side.

“He better not be.” Sherlock said, narrowing his eyes, “If I find out that you two get up to any funny business I might be a suspect in a murder.”

“Joking! He’s joking!” John laughed, smiling to fight off the fear in his chest as Rosie wriggled uncomfortably.

Sherlock’s eyes sparkled but his expression remained serious, “It wasn’t a joke John.”

Jack took in a sharp breath and Rosie groaned again, “Papa, please.”

“Look,” John leaned forward, “We just want to make sure that you value Rosie and won’t give us any cause to hurt you in any way for breaking our daughter’s heart. Sherlock here is being very good and not telling you your whole life story, it is very hard for him to resist so his sharpness is due to the urge to not say everything that might offend you. I on the other hand am resisting threatening you with a gun and telling you that they will never find your body if you hurt Rosie.” John smiled, “So as long as you promise not to hurt her or take advantage of her then we can all get along.”

Jack glanced terrified, at Rosie but she was just hiding in her hands, he looked up at John, “I won’t hurt her or take advantage of her Mr. Watson and Mr. Holmes, I promise.”

John grinned, “Good.”

“Excellent.” Sherlock stood up and held out his hand, “You may go now.” Jack barely resisted running out the door, Rosie stood up and guided him out, walking him down the stairs to see him out the door. When she returned she stared at her Fathers, “How did we do?” Sherlock asked.

Rosie sighed, “Could have been worse I suppose.”

Sherlock warmed at that, “Good.”

“Now go do your homework,” John smiled. Rosie sighed but took her bag upstairs, once she was gone John turned on Sherlock, “Spill it, what did you deduce about him, you’re dying to say it.”

A jumble of words escaped Sherlock’s mouth, “He’s two months older than Rosie, has had three other girlfriends before her, they all broke up with him because he was getting a little ‘handsy’ which makes me uncomfortable to the fact that he is now dating our daughter. His parents however are wealthy and his home environment is relatively okay, besides a few domestic fights once and awhile. He’s also a swimmer and likes to draw.”

“Hang on, back up to the ‘handsy’ part.”

“Don’t worry I’ve hidden a recorder in his jacket, if he’s with Rosie and decides to get any ideas we’ll hear about it.” Sherlock replied with a grin.  
John laughed, “You git!”

“Before you ask how I can be sure that he will be wearing that jacket when he’s with her, it’s his favorite jacket, he hardly takes it off.” Sherlock said.

John kissed him, “You are brilliant.”

“You’ve already expressed that in every way known to the English language.” Sherlock replied.

“Well then, I should start learning every other language in the world.” John said.

Sherlock laughed and kissed John again, “If you insist.”

John giggled again and then Rosie’s voice came from above, “Oh get a room! I’m trying to study!”

John took Sherlock’s hand with an evil grin, “You heard the lady.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John, “John Watson you’re not possibly suggesting… aren’t we a little old for that?”

“I am suggesting, and no, I don’t think we are.” John replied as he dragged Sherlock towards their room.


	4. Scars

John’s eyelids were closing when there was a knock on their door, “Dad, Papa?” Rosie asked, “Are you decent?” She added with a giggle.

John rolled out of bed, “I am, Sherlock, not so much.” Sherlock laughed and slipped his trousers on, John decided he was decent enough to open the door. “What do you want pumpkin?”

“I was just wondering what was for dinn—” Rosie stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening, “Papa!” She gasped. John spun around to see Sherlock just putting on one of his silk shirts, John realized what she’d seen, his scars. “How did you get those!?”

John swallowed uneasily, “Rosie-

“It’s fine John, she’s old enough to know.” Sherlock broke in.

“Know what? What happened?” Rosie asked.

Sherlock stepped past John and put his hand on Rosie’s shoulder, leading her into their room where John joined them on the bed. “I’ve had those scars for years Rosie, almost twenty I think, or somewhere around there. I got them when I pretended to be dead for two years, you’ve heard the stories of Moriarty I assume?”

Rosie nodded, “Yes. I know you helped take him down.”

“Well in order to do that I had to go away, I had to make it look like I was dead, so I jumped off St. Barts and went to disable his network. While I was there I went through stages of torture-” John whimpered at the word, memories coming back to him, he took Sherlock’s free hand in his own. Sherlock squeezed it and continued, “I was captured many times and those scars show what I went through to protect your father. I wear them with pride, they are symbols to show that I would do anything to save your father, endure anything, they are nothing to be worried about Rosie, they are just signs of love.”

Rosie was in tears and she fell into Sherlock’s chest, “Oh Papa.” She whispered. Sherlock hugged her tightly and John joined in, he was crying too. John planted a kiss on Sherlock’s cheek as they cried.   
“Those years must have been so hard for you.” Rosie said after a while of just sitting there in her father’s arms.

“Yes, but the thought of your father kept me going.” Sherlock replied quietly.

Rosie blinked up at John, “Did you know he wasn’t dead?”

“No.” John replied, his voice a whisper, “I didn’t. It was hell.”

Sherlock twisted his head and gave John a kiss, “We don’t talk about it.”

“I can tell.” Rosie replied, her eyes still sparkling with the residue of her tears. “How could you not tell him?” Rosie turned her questioning eyes to Sherlock.

“It was for his safety.” Sherlock answered, he tightened his hold on John’s hand. “I had to ensure that his actions would be those of normal human reactions when their best friends die.” Sherlock grimaced slightly but continued, “I felt like if John knew then he wouldn’t be able to pull off the act fully, it was an insurance policy.”

John was in waterworks again, “As painful as those two years were, he’s back home where he belongs, with me,” John paused, “With us. In a way his actions led to me meeting Mary and then having you, now I have both of you as family and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

A tear leaked from Rosie’s eye and she sniffed, “But don’t you ever think about Mom anymore?”

“Of course I do sweetheart.” John replied, “But I know she wanted this, so I know I am allowed to be happy with you, and with Sherlock.”

“Alright, I think we’ve had enough crying for tonight.” Sherlock stood up and brushed away his tears. “Shall we go out for dinner? It’s a Friday after all.”

John stood up with a smile, “That’s an excellent idea.”

Rosie joined her Father’s, mirroring John’s smile, “Where to?”

“You decide.” Sherlock replied.

Rosie grinned, “Angelo’s.”

Sherlock dramatically clutched his heart, “Oh! She knows how to wound a man with memories!”

John laughed, “What are you on about?”

“Our first date John!” Sherlock exclaimed, “Surely you remember!”

John’s eyes sparked, “It wasn’t really a date.”

“I consider it to be, that’s where you messed up trying to ask me out.” Sherlock replied.

John let out a short laugh, “Ha! I believe it was you who did the turning down!”

Sherlock smirked, “Touché.”

Rosie took John and Sherlock’s hands, “Come on! Let’s go then!”

They walked to Angelo’s and sat in their usual seat, “We haven’t been here in ages.” John commented, memories flooding back to him. “Does Angelo even still work here?”

“Yes.” Sherlock replied, “He does, and he’s making his way towards us right now.” John turned to see Angelo, the friendly man who Sherlock ‘got off a murder charge’. “Angelo!” Sherlock exclaimed.

“Sherlock!” Angelo returned the greeting, “It’s been too long old friend! Who’s this?” He asked upon seeing Rosie.

“This is our daughter.” Sherlock replied proudly. 

Angelo smiled, “Well isn’t that just wonderful.” He held out his hand to Rosie, she took it and smiled sweetly.

“I’m Rosie.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Angelo replied warmly. He turned to Sherlock and John, “Whatever you order is on the house,”

“We couldn’t possibly let you do that, again.” John said.

Angelo waved his hand in the air, “It’s no trouble! Besides, I don’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh just let him John, he won’t take the money anyway.” Sherlock said.

John sighed, “Oh alright. You heard him Rosie, anything you want.”

“Okay.” Rosie picked up her menu and was busied with choosing her meal.

“So I was right then, all those years ago.” Angelo whispered close to Sherlock and John’s ears, but away from Rosie’s. “You were his date.”

John laughed, “Well not then actually, about seven years after was when all this started. I was married and that’s what brought me Rosie, but then my wife died, I realized I had feelings for Sherlock and now here we are.”

“Well you’re both welcome here, anytime.” Angelo said. He turned to Rosie, “Have you decided on anything?”

Rosie put down her menu, “They’re all such excellent choices I can’t pick one, surprise me.”

Angelo smiled, “Will do, and for you two?” He asked.

“Surprise us as well.” Sherlock answered before John could get a word in.

The night lasted a long time, they ate dessert then decided to return home to Baker Street. Rosie was tired and she slipped up to her room with a yawn. Sherlock plopped down in his chair and John joined him, choosing his chair across from the detective. “We should do that more often.” He said with a content sigh.

“Mhm.” Sherlock mumbled in agreement, his eyes were slipping closed.

“Shall we go to bed as well?” John asked. Sherlock stood up in response and practically tugged John from his chair, dragging him to his room. “Sherlock slow down!” John cried.

Sherlock let go of John once they were in their room. “Wait there.” He said.

John sighed, “What’s this about?”

“Shush. It’s a surprise.” Sherlock replied from behind John, he was on the ground, digging under their bed. John started to turn around but Sherlock stood up abruptly, “No peeking.” He snapped. John sighed again but waited for Sherlock to come back into John’s vision. He held out an envelope with John’s name scratched onto it. “You didn’t think I’d forgotten did you?” He asked.

“Forgotten?” John asked, taking the envelope from Sherlock.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you forgot!” John stared at him blankly, “Happy Birthday!”

John’s mouth widened to a smile, “Oh!”

“You forgot didn’t you?”

“Well, yes. Things like this happen when you get older.” John replied. John inspected the envelope, “What is it?”

“Why don’t you open it and find out.” Sherlock answered.

John grinned and slid a finger under the seal, he found two plane tickets, “What’s this?”

“A vacation.” Sherlock replied simply. “For two.”

John smiled, “Thank you, this is just what I needed.”

Sherlock beamed at him, “The flight leaves in three days.”

John laughed and pulled Sherlock close to him, “You are amazing Sherlock Holmes.”

“Yes I know John, you never cease to tell me.” Sherlock replied as he smiled into the kiss.

“I love you.” John murmured.

“I love you too.” Sherlock replied.


	5. Paris

John stepped out of the airport and took a breath of Paris. Sherlock slipped his hand into John’s, “I figured a romantic country would do for our romantic vacation.”

John gave Sherlock’s hand a squeeze, “It’s wonderful Sherlock, truly wonderful.”

Sherlock smiled, “I’m glad you like it.”

They arrived at their hotel and John stood at the window his eyes widening, “The view is amazing Sherlock!”

“Yes, well what would a trip to Paris be like without a view of the Eiffel Tower.” Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and kissed his neck.

John placed his hands over Sherlock’s and sighed, “So what’s the plan for today?”

Sherlock pulled away from John, “What would be the fun of me telling you, you’ll just have to wait and be surprised.” 

“I should have known you’d want to keep me on my toes.” John smiled, planting a small kiss on Sherlock’s lips.

Sherlock returned the smile, “I don’t know about you John but I am hungry.”

“Lead the way.” John replied.

Sherlock led John to a restaurant and they were just about to tuck into their food when they heard a gasp from a table beside them. Sherlock turned his head to see a young girl about twenty staring at them. Sherlock returned her stare, “Can we help you?” Sherlock asked in perfect French. 

“It’z zu!” The girl exclaimed her voice thick with a French accent. “You are Sherlock Holmes! But what are you doing in Paris!? Oh, no, stupid me! You’re probably here about the missing painting!”

Sherlock sighed but John smiled; they couldn’t go anywhere. “I’m enjoying a vacation.” Sherlock replied but John saw him grin curiously, “What was that about a missing painting?”

“Surely you know!” She yelled, in a state of excitement.

“No, I don’t.” Sherlock replied, “Would you enlighten me?”

John rolled his eyes, “Sherlock we’re not here for a case.”

Sherlock turned to John, his eyes pleading, “Oh come on John! A missing painting, in Paris! It’s a classic, please let me solve it!”

“Well I can’t stop you,” John replied, “Have at it.”

Sherlock brightened and returned his stare to the girl, “What happened?” 

“Well you see, it was only last night!” The girl began, “One minute it was there, the next it wasn’t!”

“What painting was it!?” Sherlock inquired.

“The Mona Lisa of course!”

Sherlock’s face stretched to a grin, “Excellent!”

“Wait but haven’t people already tried to steal the Mona Lisa, what makes these people successful this time?” John asked.

“I don’t know!” The girl replied, “I thought that’s what you were going to figure out!”

“Mmm, yes that is what we’re going to figure out, come on John.” Sherlock stood up.

“What, now?” John asked, “We haven’t even finished dinner!”

“John, the game is on! We can eat dinner later!” Sherlock was already halfway out the door. John sighed and followed him.

John ran to catch up with Sherlock, “Where are we going?”

“Where else, The Louvre!”

“Sherlock it’s closed, it was just robbed.” John replied.

“I never said we were going inside.” Sherlock said. “There are enough clues to pick up outside.”

“Right of course.” John replied as he followed Sherlock down the lit streets of Paris. They reached The Louvre to see police cars still milling about. They reached the edge of the crime scene and Sherlock craned his neck to see around the tape.

“Excuse me sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave, this is a crime scene.” A police officer said as he held up his badge, his accent was French but his English was perfect. “The Louvre is closed to tourists at this time.”

Sherlock spun around, “Oh that’s alright, I was just seeing if the rumors were true.”

“I’m afraid they are.” The police officer replied.

“Unfortunate isn’t it.” Sherlock commented.

“Very.”

“Do you have any clues to who did it?” John asked, feeling awkward to not be in the conversation.

“We have no leads yet.” The officer replied, “But these events are classified, if you could be on your way so we can continue with the investigation—

“Oh but you see,” Sherlock said with a smile, “I’m a detective.”

The officer glanced at him and laughed shortly, “Nice try, you can’t have a look, you’re a civilian, and a tourist.”

“You want me to prove it do you?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh God.” John muttered, “Don’t Sherlock, we can come back tomorrow.”

“No, I’m here now, I want to have a look.” Sherlock replied, his voice a whisper. The officer was staring at them questioningly but he smiled.

“Yeah prove it.” He said, his smirk growing.

Sherlock squared his shoulders and stared at the officer, “You haven’t slept since you heard about this case and that is only to be expected as it is intriguing, but your wife doesn’t approve of you   
spending all your hours here, at a potentially dangerous crime scene, in fact you and your wife have had quite a few fights about this matter and now you fear your marriage is unstable and your baby daughter will be taken from you. You had soup and a biscuit for lunch, a cheap meal, but—

“Stop.” The officer held up his hand, incredulous. “How do you know all that?” Anger tinted his words.

“Here we go again.” John muttered.

“I observe.” Sherlock replied simply.

“There’s no way you could have seen all that, have you been spying on me?” The officer was reaching for his gun but John held out a hand.

“Officer he sees things, observes things others don’t. I’ve tried to figure it out but I always get lost. Let him explain how he knew those facts about you before you do anything rash.” John said.

The officer’s hand wavered over his gun but he nodded, “Alright.”

“Well the first bit is obvious, your eyes, your stance, the way your speak, they all suggest lack of sleep but only recently as the darkness under your eyes is new, not old. You keep playing with your   
wedding ring, that means you’re afraid for your marriage but this is a new habit because the outside is dirty in the middle of the ring but not around the edges which suggests you only started recently, most likely within a few days. Now what happened within a few days, the robbery. You’re anxious, the way your eyes drift and of course the fact that your hands are never still, now it’s not about the robbery because you’re here talking to us so you clearly think your associates have this covered, this is private life, you had a fight with your wife about staying out late at the crime scene.”

“How do you know I have a daughter?” He asked.

“Well frankly you reek of baby powder.” Sherlock replied, “And her picture was poking out from your wallet when you showed us your badge. Now you had soup because there is a slight stain on your collar   
from where you spilled some, and a few crumbs from a biscuit in your beard.” Sherlock ended.

The officer was staring at Sherlock in disbelief, “Yeah, he does that.” John said with a smile.

“There, I proved I’m a detective, may I have a look at the crime scene now?” Sherlock asked.

The officer recovered from his shock, “No, you can’t. I can’t just let anyone in there.”

“I’m not anyone.” Sherlock replied. “I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

The officer snorted, “Is that supposed to mean anything.”

“Look him up.” John said quickly.

“I’m sorry?” The officer asked.

“I said look him up.” John repeated.

Sherlock glanced smugly at John as the officer sighed and took his phone out of his pocket. He typed into it then looked up, “What’s a consulting detective?”

Sherlock sighed, “It means that when the police are confused, they talk to me. Which is exactly what’s going on here, because all of you don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“You have to go.” The officer said, “I’m done talking to you people, if you don’t leave now I’m going to have to force you out.”

Sherlock sighed, “I didn’t want to do this but now I guess I have to.” Sherlock slid out his phone and started to type. John read over his shoulder: Missing, Mona Lisa, please get them to let me take a look -   
SH.

John laughed, “I never thought you’d run to Mycroft!”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Sherlock replied. His phone buzzed and John read again: I thought you were on vacation. Let the police sort it out Sherlock - M

They don’t know how to sort it out. I need to have a look - SH

Fine. I’ll see what I can do - M.

Thank you - SH.

“Wow, thank you’s and pleases, you must really be desperate.” John laughed.

“What are you doing?” The officer asked.

“I’m sure you will find that momentarily I will be allowed to inspect the crime scene.” Sherlock replied smugly.

Sure enough, another officer was making his way over to them. He spoke in French to the first officer who turned to Sherlock and John, “You may go in.” He said begrudgingly.

Sherlock smiled, “Thank you.” He slipped under the tape and held it up for John. John followed Sherlock as the officer led them onto the crime scene. He was about to open the doors when Sherlock waved   
him off, “Oh no, no, I’ll start outside thank you.”

“Outside?” The officer repeated.

“Yes, now shush. Working.” Sherlock bent down on the ground and pulled out his magnifying glass.

“Best not disturb him.” John said as he crossed his arms and watched Sherlock work. Sherlock stood up brusquely and placed the magnifying glass back in his pocket.

“You’re looking for a female, around 5 foot 6, size 8 feet, probably early twenties, and roughly 130 pounds.” Sherlock stated.

“Wha…how…?”

“Footprints.” Sherlock replied simply. “Can I have a look inside now?” 

Speechless the officer opened the door and Sherlock whisked inside followed by John. “It’s this way.” The officer said, leading them down the hall. Sherlock and John followed and they arrived at the wall   
that would have held the famous Mona Lisa, now it was just blank and boxed off by caution tape. There were a few detectives and a forensic scientist at the scene and they looked up when Sherlock and John arrived. The officer said something in French and the people moved away from the Mona Lisa’s resting place.  
Sherlock immediately leaped into action moving around the empty frame, sniffing the air, crawling on the floor, examining the wall. John watched him and couldn’t help smiling, Sherlock was so good at his job. Finally he stood up, “I’ll get back to you on the case.” He said, “I have to think things over.” With that he started off down the hallway, leaving John to sigh and begin the follow him, only to be stopped by the officer.

“Is that it?” He asked.

“He said he’d get back to you, excuse me.” John pushed past him and raced to catch up to Sherlock, “Well.” He said.

“Haven’t got much, the footprint was a better find than the actual spot in the museum. Whoever she is, she’s good, clever, hid her tracks well.” Sherlock said thoughtfully. 

“Shall we go and finish our dinner, or go back to the hotel?” John asked.

“Hotel. Restaurant’s closed now.” Sherlock said. They hailed a cab and returned to their room. Once sat on their bed John realized how tired he was.

“I think I’ll shower and head to bed.” He said.

“Alright.” Sherlock replied, “I’m going to do more research on this case.”

“Just don’t stay up all night okay?” John said.

Sherlock smiled, “Oh alright.” He kissed John lightly on the mouth then returned to his computer.

John showered and climbed into their bed, Sherlock was leaning against the headboard his fingers moved on his computer keyboard. John scooted closer to him, resting his head against Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock grinned but continued typing. John kissed his neck and Sherlock inhaled sharply. John worked his way up Sherlock’s jaw line, “Am I distracting you yet?” He murmured.  
Sherlock stopped trying to type and turned to John, “Yes Doctor Watson, I am distracted.”

John grinned, “Good.” He kissed his lips and Sherlock barely had time to move his laptop out of the way before John was on him.

“John.” Sherlock gasped between kisses.

“What?” John asked, his eyes innocent.

“I’ll stop research and go to bed, as this is clearly your plan.” Sherlock replied.

“Oh, the great detective has seen through my cunning idea.” John gasped. Sherlock slid off the bed.

“Just let me get ready.” He disappeared into the bathroom then reappeared a few minutes later and crawled back under the covers, turning out the light on his way. John snuggled up next to Sherlock,   
breathing in his scent and letting his heartbeat and breathing lull him to sleep. Sherlock stroked John’s hair and sighed quietly. “I love you John.”

“I love you too.” John replied.


	6. Solved

When morning came John woke to find Sherlock still asleep, his arm draped over John’s waist. John snuggled closer to him, listening to his heartbeat and watching his chest rise and fall. He couldn’t have been happier. Sherlock was alive, and here with him, and John would never let him go. Sherlock grunted slightly and took a slow sleepy breath, stretching his jaw in a yawn, then he blinked open his eyes.

“Morning John.” He said sweetly.

“Good morning my handsome detective.” John replied.

“I figured out the case.” Sherlock said quietly.

“What?” John blinked in surprise.

“I figured it out John, it was rather obvious once you put the facts together.” Sherlock replied.

“So who did it?” John asked.

“The girl we met in the restaurant.” Sherlock said simply.

“But, but she was the one who told us about it.”

“Yes, which means she wants something to do with me.” Sherlock replied thoughtfully. “I figured today we could find out what. Unless of course you just want me to report it to the police and we can have our vacation as it was supposed to be planned.”

John laughed shortly, “Sherlock, as much as a vacation sounds amazing, I can’t keep you from a case, besides, being normal, having mundane vacations, it is boring, I want an adventure Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock kissed John quickly, “Then an adventure you shall have.”

They dressed then headed downstairs for a quick breakfast in the hotel restaurant before they started on their way. Once out of the hotel Sherlock led John down the streets, a slight skip in his step. 

“Where are we going?” John asked.

“To find the girl.” Sherlock replied.

“We aren’t going to the police?”

“Since when do we go to the police? This is my business.”

“But how did she know you’d be here?” John asked.

“She’s English.” Sherlock replied.

“No, her accent was French.” John said, confused.

“John, Mary wasn’t English, yet her accent was English. Some people are good at hiding who they are.” Sherlock replied. “Now, If we can just find her.”

“Maybe she’s back at the restaurant.” John suggested.

“No, she wouldn’t go back there, but she might be somewhere near there.” Sherlock continued down the street with John following him until they reached the site of the restaurant. “Keep your eyes open   
John.” Sherlock said while scouring the setting for the girl with his blue eyes, his brilliant blue eyes. John was just starting to look himself when Sherlock saw something. “There she is.” He said with a slightly malicious tone. He strode over to her his eyes popping in excitement. “Hello!” He called jubilantly upon getting close enough to be heard. 

The girl looked up in surprise and John noted slight fear. “Hello Mr. Holmes!” She replied in a steady voice. 

“Is there somewhere we can talk quietly?” Sherlock asked. 

“Why?” The girl asked. 

“Well Ms….

“Kathy.” The girl said. 

“Kathy.” Sherlock smiled. Even John knew it was a fake name. “I just want to talk to you about the information you gave me yesterday.” 

“Information?” Kathy asked. 

“About the Mona Lisa. I don't exactly want it overheard. It took enough persuading to make them let me take a look, I don't think they'll want it public knowledge.” 

“Want what public knowledge?” Kathy asked suspiciously. 

“Well you'll find out won't you.” Sherlock said sourly. 

Kathy slammed her book shut and stood up. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Sherlock looked at her quickly, “What's with the attitude today? Yesterday you were completely bubbling with happiness upon seeing me.” 

“I've been having a bad day.” Kathy replied. 

“Well I'm afraid it will only get worse.” Sherlock said with a smile. 

Kathy stopped in her tracks. “Why?”

Sherlock stopped as well, “I guess here is good.” He said. “I know it was you.” He said bluntly, not even trying to hide his giddiness. 

“Know what was me?” Kathy asked, although her face was flushed. 

“Where is it?” Sherlock asked. 

“Where’s what?” 

“The Mona Lisa.” Sherlock replied. 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Kathy said. 

“What do you want with me?” Sherlock asked, moving on. 

“Who said I want something with you?” Kathy asked innocently. 

“Stop playing games.” Sherlock said. “I'm supposed to be on vacation with my husband and you're wasting time. Now, why did you steal the Mona Lisa, was it to get my attention? Why is your accent French   
when you yourself are English? And what do you want with me?” 

Kathy sighed. “I don't know…

“Answer his question.” John snapped. 

Kathy smiled, “Not much Mr. Holmes.” 

“Now we're getting somewhere.” Sherlock grinned. 

John saw it too late, he could barely raise his voice in warning, the gunshot rang out and then Kathy was running. John couldn't stop her, she was already too far his voice broke as he screamed   
“SHERLOCK!” He collapsed to the ground next to Sherlock whose white shirt was stained with blood and it was still coming. John pressed his hands onto the wound trying to remain calm, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Sherlock stay with me. You're going to be alright.” 

“John.” Sherlock gasped out. 

“I'm here. I'm here you're fine.” John pressed the wound with one hand and fished in his pocket for his phone with the other. Upon calling an ambulance John continued calming Sherlock and applying   
pressure to the wound. Sherlocks head lolled to the side and John felt panic leap in his chest. “No no no no. Sherlock stay with me please. They're almost here.Don’t leave me! Not again, please!” John felt tears slipping out of his eyelids and he held Sherlock’s cheek with a bloody hand, slipping his fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse. There wasn’t one. “Sherlock no, please!” John screamed in anguish. He sat up and immediately moved his hands to Sherlock’s chest, starting CPR. Thirty pumps, two breaths, thirty pumps, two breaths. The sound of sirens began to echo around John and he continued his CPR until the paramedics arrived. “You have to restart his heart!” John cried, tears still sliding off his chin. The paramedic looked at him in confusion. He speaks French. The realization hit John and he quickly started compressions again, to show the man what he meant. Suddenly understanding the man nodded and returned with the familiar rectangular box of the AED. Shoving John out of the way the man tore open Sherlock’s shirt and placed the pads on his chest. He mumbled something in French that John registered as CLEAR and Sherlock’s body jerked. John held his breath. “Please Sherlock pull through, pull through!” John cried. Sherlock jerked again then suddenly there was a heartbeat. Two more men arrived with a stretcher and Sherlock was loaded into the ambulance with John sitting alongside Sherlock in the back, his hand clutching Sherlock’s. 

The paramedics worked quickly, John just stared dazedly the entire time, focusing on Sherlock’s face, his slim jawline, his lush eyelashes, his mop of perfect curly hair, his fine lips that had turned pale from lack of blood, and if his eyes were open John would have been staring at his wonderful, enchanting, blue eyes. John felt like the ride to the hospital was taking eternity, Sherlock’s life lay in the air. “Please.” John whispered out, his voice nothing but tears. They reached the hospital and John lept out with the paramedics, racing next to the stretcher as they wheeled Sherlock in. When they reached the operating room a man put his hand out to stop John. “No, I’m a doctor, I have to be with him, please!” John screamed desperately, knowing they wouldn’t understand him. “Please!” John was crying, they pushed past him into the operating room and shut the door in his face. John pounded on the surface of the door, crying and screaming. “HE’S MY HUSBAND! SHERLOCK! PLEASE! SHERLOCK!” He kept screaming and pounding and his heart was breaking into a thousand different pieces of anguish. John slumped to the ground, his cheeks sticky with salt, his eyes bulging from his tears, his breaths hiccupping as he tried to take in air, his hands shaking in pain. “I love you.” He whispered. “I love you so much Sherlock, please don’t go, I can’t bare it again.”   
John had been forced to move to the waiting area, and he couldn’t stop crying. The operation took hours but finally the door opened and John sprinted from his chair as they moved Sherlock into a room and a woman came up to him with a warm smile. “He will be fine.” She said. “He just needs rest.”

“I need to see him.” John demanded.

“Of course, but first can you tell us his attacker?” The woman asked.

“Some girl about twenty named Kathy, well at least she calls herself Kathy, she stole the Mona Lisa, well that was the case Sherlock was working on and he found her and she shot him and…” John trailed   
off his tears still coming. “Let me see him.” He said, adding his military commanding tone in for effect. The woman was staring at him but she moved aside to let John through. John couldn’t contain himself from barging into the room in a small state of panic. John gazed upon Sherlock in the hospital bed and shuddered at the view, having seen it too many times already. John approached slowly, still more tears pooling out of his eyes. He saw Sherlock’s bandaged chest and remembered when Mary shot him, in the same spot, and then when Mary died, in the same way. John saw the blood on his fingers and remembered the blood on the pavement, surrounding Sherlock’s head. He remembered Sherlock’s words to him; “That’s what people do don’t they, leave a note…Goodbye John”. John shuddered at the memory and moved closer, his heart crying along with his eyes. He reached Sherlock’s bedside and took his limp hand in his own. He kissed his knuckles, his fingers, the palm of his hand, the back of his hand, and then he kissed Sherlock’s forehead, then his cheek, and finally his lips. His tears fell onto Sherlock’s cheeks and onto his lips but John wouldn’t let go. Sherlock stirred. John kept his lips pressed to Sherlock’s. Sherlock didn’t open his eyes but John felt him return the kiss. John pulled away and saw Sherlock’s blue gaze searching his own. “John.” He smiled with a wince.

“I love you so much Sherlock!” John cried, “So much do you hear? I can’t live in a world without you!”

Sherlock raised his left arm to touch John’s back and brought him gently down for another kiss. “I love you too John, I’m alright, I’m here.”

“Once you’re well we’re going home, the police can figure out the rest of the case and Kathy will be caught.” John said, he was shaking slightly. 

“I’m sorry.” Sherlock sighed. John gave him a quizzical look. “If I hadn’t brought you here then we never would have met Kathy, I never would have been lured into the case, and I wouldn’t be lying here   
with you crying over me.”

“Don’t apologize.” John sniffed, “I’ve had a wonderful time, apart from you getting shot, again.”

“I need to stop making this a habit.” Sherlock said, smiling again.

“Yes you bloody well do.” John replied, giving Sherlock another kiss.


	7. Broken

Sherlock took a week to heal enough to go home. Once on their private jet courtesy of Mycroft John held Sherlock’s hand and rested his head on his shoulder. “Rosie must be distraught.” John said softly.  
“She is distraught John.” Sherlock replied.

John shut his eyes and sighed, “Yes, I’d imagine so.”

“We’ll be home to her in no time.” Sherlock said reassuringly, giving John’s knee a pat.

“I want to be home now.” John replied, covering Sherlock’s hand with his own.

“Try to get some sleep, you haven’t slept in a week apart from an hour a day.” Sherlock said.

John shook his head, “Can’t sleep, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Sherlock sighed in a laugh, “You don’t have to watch me breathe all day John, it’s actually rather creepy.”

“I just want to make sure I’m not seeing things.” John replied.

Sherlock kissed John’s head, “I’m right here.”

“I just don’t know what I’d do if you died.” John said, “For real.” He swallowed.

“I’m not going anywhere John. I would never leave you again. Never.” Sherlock’s sight began to grow blurry with his own tears. “Never.” 

They arrived home and John caught sight of Rosie, standing with Mycroft waiting for them. When John and Sherlock emerged from the plane Rosie lept into action, flying across the ground to hug Sherlock, who was caught slightly off guard and he grunted in pain. “Sorry!” Rosie cried. “Sorry! I just….” Sherlock hugged her back.

“It’s alright Rosie.” Sherlock said, “I’m okay.”

Mycroft strode over in a simpler manner, his stance was the same old Mycroft but his eyes swam with worry and relief. “Glad you’re safe brother mine.”

“Oh just hug him.” John said exasperated. “You know you want to.”

Mycroft cringed at the idea but John saw a little eagerness in his eyes. “Come on Uncle Myc, you can’t be heartless forever.” Rosie said, agreeing with her father.

“I’m not heartless.” Mycroft objected.

Rosie moved behind Mycroft and gave him a shove, sending him stumbling towards Sherlock, who stepped sideways to avoid collision, his eyes bubbling with laughter. “Hug.” John ordered, grabbing Mycroft by the arm.

“John I don’t think that’s necessary.” Sherlock interjected.

“It’s quite necessary, it will do you both good.” John said.

“There’s no way around this.” Mycroft’s mouth twitched, the beginnings of a smile.

“And of course you’re right.” Sherlock said, reading John’s eyes. “Alright, get it over with.” He spread open his arms and Mycroft went into them, it was a stiff, awkward hug at first but then the two   
brothers fell into each other and Mycroft gave Sherlock a squeeze which resulted in a squawk of pain.

“My sincerest apologies brother mine.” Mycroft said, pulling away.

“Forgiven.” Sherlock said with a slight smile. He turned to John, “Now, back to 221B!”

John grinned and took Sherlock’s hand, “Home it is.”

After Mrs. Hudson’s fussing Sherlock and John finally settled into bed, their hands lying entangled under the covers, Sherlock’s thumb sliding back and forth over the back of John’s hand, his head tilted toward the ceiling, his breathing shallow, but even. John gave Sherlock’s hand a squeeze. Sherlock turned his head to look at John. “It’s okay.”

John faced Sherlock, “No it’s not. It’s not okay Sherlock; it’s never going to be… I’m never going to be… okay. I watched you almost die right in front of me again Sherlock; I shouldn’t be able to count the amount of times I’ve had to watch my best friend and husband be nearly stolen from me. I shouldn’t have to be worried I could lose you. I shouldn’t….

Sherlock kissed John to stop him mid sentence, when he pulled away John let out a shuddering breath. “John, you have no need to worry. You have brought me back to life every time I’ve neared death. I am only redeemed by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. You are my light John, you are my happiness. We have a strange relationship John, but it is what it is, and I love it, and I love you, more than anything in the entire world. I would do anything for you, and anything to keep you safe. John Watson, you are the man who made my world right-side up again. You are the man I will never fail to keep uncovering new things I love about you. Don’t worry about me John, as long as you’re here I will never leave you.”

John was crying again at Sherlock’s words, at his love, at his everything. He kissed Sherlock again and Sherlock kissed him back, then John curled up in the crook of Sherlock’s body and rested his head on   
Sherlock’s arm. “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.” Sherlock replied, kissing John’s head. With that they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, chests rising and falling together, heart beating together, draped in their love for the other, for the man that makes their life complete and for the one that turned it all around and gave hope a new meaning.

~It is what it is


End file.
